Cat Noir Novels & Stories

Opening the book on Lycanthropy, I tried to read it but I couldn't concentrate. I was starving. It had been almost twenty four hours since I had last eaten. I had been running on fumes and adrenaline since then. Suddenly, A knock sounded at the door. I closed the book and placed it on the couch as I stood up to go see who it was. I was surprised to see Cain standing outside my door holding a large plate of steaming food, a fork and a bottle of water tucked under his arm. "I figured you hadn't eaten," he said. "Mind if I come in?"

She closed her eyes again, and this time, she didn't pretend to be awake. When she finally sat up, he was watching her. Not with hunger. Just with a quiet, assessing attention—like he was memorizing the shape of her in his space. "You're like a cat," he said. She stared at him. "you have said that before." His expression didn't change. But his ears—she noticed—were slightly pink. She didn't say anything. She just leaned back into his side, and his arm came around her, and she felt him press a kiss to the top of her head before he went back to his book.

have found me so fast. She shoved the thought down. Hard. Across the yard, Jasmine and Kika were locked in a brutal spar. Jasmine—wild cat number 89—was dominating, landing elbow strikes and knee drives that had Kika (101) staggering. Serial stood at the edge of the mat, arms crossed, shouting critiques. “Too slow, 101! You fight like you’re scared of pain—newsflash, it’s coming anyway!” Jasmine swept Kika’s legs; Kika hit the mat hard. Serial barked a laugh. Then her gaze shifted. Landed on Riley. A slow, predatory smile curled her lips. “Oh look who we have here,” Serial called, loud enough to draw eyes from every corner of the yard. “The runaway wild cat. Quite surprising how out of the

"To hell with that. You have to let me go. I'm not an animal; why are you tying me up with iron chains like this? Let go!" "Calm down. I'll let you go. Promise not to attack me." "I will kill you straight away!" Caterina glared sharply. "It's so fun to see you tied up like this. You're like a prisoner that many men will take turns with. Hahaha." "Shut your mouth, bastard!" "Wow... you are really scary, Kate. But why am I excited to see you angry?" Caterina controlled her breath, which was rising and falling with anger. Seeing Leo's face was like looking at a pile of trash. Caterina was reluctant to stare for long and chose to ignore him.

“My pussy cat smells so good.” Pandora flinched, slightly amused by Kingston’s continued sniffing of her scent. The man wasn’t alone. He’d brought three kittens; cute and adorable. If Pandora had to guess, the face and build of the hybrid cat resembled a puma, but its markings and stripes were like those of a cheetah. “I want to hold one.” They were still small. Not nearly as intimidating as Kingston’s other cats. Pandora picked one up. She stroked the cat’s soft fur. She giggled as Kingston’s intense gaze fixed on her.

"It's alright," she said, though she didn't mean it. "Did you hear that, Code? Your name's not so bad after all. Funny how you still ignore me when I call you." Jack chuckled. "What kind of cat is he? He's huge," Jessie asked while stroking Code with open curiosity. "He's a Maine Coon. Also, Ronny bought me that fluffy, intimidating one over there with the blue eyes. That's a Siberian." Jack introduced the cats one by one.

The stray cat I adopted had recently started looking at my boyfriend, Logan Bennett, and his female best friend, Chloe Dawson, like they were complete idiots. Then one day, Chloe climbed into the passenger seat of Logan’s car again and shot me a provocative smile. A fierce little voice suddenly rang out in my head: “Human, that woman is calling you an idiot in her head! She’s also planning to get your man drunk tonight! Hurry up and slap her! If you do, I’ll make sure you find money on the street when you leave!” I froze and stared down at Mochi in my arms. So my cat could not only talk, but also read minds and predict the future? Fine. From today on, Mochi and I would make these two s

“Damn, why do I even following a cat? And Goblin you're a pure black I can't really see you.” The cat stops and looked at her with his strange eyes, with a paused he starts to cry, “Meow,” for Kate to follow him. “Damn smart cat.” After a minute Kate saw a mansion kind of house yet old.

The smell hits me, and I grimace. "Audrey," I say in a warning tone, "that better not be—" "TEQUILA!" She yells and I groan. Tequila is the sure-fire way to get me both hammered and horny, and she damn well knows this. "Come on, Kat," she says in her sweetest voice, pouting at me then grinning at Dan. She passes Mark a glass. "Why are there five?" I ask her.

There’s an old English proverb that states: "A cat has nine lives. For three he plays, for three he strays, and for the last three he stays". A common myth that we’ve all heard is that cats have nine lives. But where does this fiction of feline immortality actually come from? And why is it the number nine? Nine is considered a magical number, which could also be part of the reason cats are attributed with nine lives. Cats have been both worshipped and feared throughout the ages and are seen as magical creatures.